Sick Day
by Stripes93
Summary: One Prussian, one American, two very sick Italians that they have to take care of. What could possibly go wrong? -Rated T for two words-


The two men looked to each other quickly, ruby red meeting sky blue, before looking back down to the two sick Italians laying side by side, heads sticky with sweat and coughing every so often. "Whats wrong with them?" The blond asked, a vague memory of a friend in the same condition appearing in his head.

"They're sick, what else would be wrong with them?" Answered the albino.

Sick? Arthur was sick once! Alfred knew just what to do! "Hang on a minute!" The blue-eyed man said, racing out the room momentarily before coming back. He smiled happily as he placed a hot dog on each of the brunettes head's. Hamburgers apparently didn't work last time-who knew right?-so maybe hotdogs would! "There! That should do it!" Smiling his trade mark 'hero smile' he glanced to the Prussian who was looking at him blankly.

"Wow, Alfred. That's...high five!" Alfred gladly raised his hand to meet the albino's only to smacked in the back of the head. "_Depp_! They're sick! They don't need food on their head, _verdammt_, they need...rest and junk." Truthfully he had never had to take care of someone before while they were sick. Ludwig rarely got sick and anytime he did Elizaveta somehow magically appeared as though she didn't trust Gilbert to take care of his own little brother. He could do it...you know if he tried.

Coughing and the sound of his name brought him out of his thoughts. "Gilbert," More coughing.  
>"Yes, Feli? I'm here." The albino said, more gently than Alfred had ever heard him speak. He watched as the Prussian grabbed the small Italians hand and held it in his, so tenderly you'd have thought Feliciano was a hurt animal. "What is it, Feli? What do you need?" Gilbert asked, moving a strand of hair that stuck to Feliciano's face out the way.<p>

"Thirsty," The Italian rasped, opening his honey colored eyes ever so slightly to look at his boyfriend.

"Okay, Feli. I'll get you something to drink." Gilbert kissed his forehead and slowly released his hand before quickly darting out the room and down the stairs to the kitchen.

Opening up the fridge, Gilbert paused for a moment. Water would help with the thirst but wasn't there something else that might help him get better faster? '_Hmm, beer always makes me feel better_.' He thought, rifling through the fridge. Of course Feliciano and Lovino didn't normally drink beer so he'd have to substitute. But with what? "Wine. They like wine!" He grabbed the first bottle of wine he saw and poured it into a cup.

Wine was made with fruit right? And fruit was good for you! It was like a two in one! Feli would get better in no time! "Kesese, I'm so awesome to have thought of that!" He boasted to himself as he carefully carried the drink back upstairs. Entering the room, he glanced to Alfred who was giving Lovino a sad look. It reminded him of West's dogs when they were being reprimanded. "Whats your problem?" He asked, sitting by his boyfriends side and set the cup down.

"Lovi's all hot and I think it's going to his head. He growled something about potatoes then he hit me. He didn't even open his eyes and he hit me square in the head. It hurt too," Gilbert rolled his eyes but quickly glanced to Feliciano to make sure he didn't seem too warm.

"Hey, Feli? I got you something to drink." He whispered, watching the Italian crack an eye open and try to sit up with obvious effort. "No, don't try to sit up! I got it!" Gilbert said quickly before his 'patient' could strain himself. "Hey, fat kid." He said to Alfred, watching the American narrow his eyes and give him a glare of death. "You normally carry food with you. Don't you have straws or something that you use to drink your million gallons of soda?"

"If Feli wasn't Lovino's brother I wouldn't give it to you." Alfred grumbled, reaching into his beloved bomber jacket and handed the albino a bendy straw still wrapped up, mumbling something along the lines of 'I am not fat,'

"What you meant to say is if you didn't give it to me you knew you'd be punched." Gilbert said, placing the straw in the cup and gently lifted Feliciano's head and held the straw to his lips.

"Psh," Alfred scoffed at his threat. "You couldn't punch me if you tried. I let you have that last hit." He said, glaring at the albino.

"Yeah, what ever kid. I-"

"Shut...up..." He was cut off as Lovino opened his eyes to glare at the both of them then put his attention on Alfred, his gaze softening for a moment before he closed his eyes back.

"Alfred," He said, voice weak. Alfred whined gently, unused to hearing his boyfriend sound so unlike himself.

"Yeah?" He whispered, blue eyes wide with worry.

"Food," The Italian told him, rolling over.

'_Mien gott, he has to be sick! He didn't know what he just said_!' Gilbert thought, then grabbed the blond before he could make his way out the door. "Hold it right there, blondie! You're not touching any food! Feli would kill me if I let you poison his brother! Watch them and _I'll _go make the food." He told the blond pushing him away from the door and went down the stairs. "Might as well make something for the both of them," He muttered to himself and opened the refrigerator.

What did sick people eat anyway? The Italians liked pasta so did he make that? What did Eliza make Ludwig when he was sick? "Soup! They need soup!" Could you put pasta in soup? That didn't sound right. "Guess I'll just throw some things together." He mumbled, beginning to gather ingredients together.

Back upstairs, Alfred gazed at his boyfriend sadly. He wasn't all too sure what it meant for someone to be sick but so far he didn't like it. He missed hearing Lovino's harsh voice, muttering curses under his breath when he was irritated and those rare moments when he calmed down and actually told him '_ti amo_'-even if he did end it with _'idiota_' more than half the time. Right now all he was doing was laying there, sweating and tossing and turning. "Don't worry, Lovino, I'll stay here and make sure you get better. And that's a hero's promise!" He smiled at the Italian and watched him open his brown eyes to look at him, smirk and mumble 'idiot'.

"I love you, too, Lovi." Alfred said, kissing his cheek. Lovino closed his eyes back and sighed before becoming racked with coughs. Alfred merely stared with wide, worried eyes. "D-don't worry, Lovino. You'll get better," He stuttered, biting his lip as the coughing finally seased. This seemed bad, worse even than when Arthur was sick. Could Lovino and his brother die? No! Alfred-and Gilbert-would never allow that to happen!

Fixing the blankets, Alfred quickly glanced over to Feliciano then back to Lovino and noted that they both were sweating. Pulling back the duvet from the two to allow some air the American's face colored as he was given a quick reminder that the Italians normally slept in the nude. Pulling it back up the blond then hopped up and went the bathroom, grabbing two rags and soaked them in cold water before returning to the bedroom and laid each cloth over the Italians foreheads. "There. That should do it." He mumbled, smiling to himself.

He then turned towards the door as he heard Gilbert come in, a tray with two bowls of soup in hand. "That was quick," Alfred commented, taking the bowl offered to him and watched the albino take his seat next to Feli.

"Of course it was. I'm an awesome cook. And awesome cooks such as myself don't keep sick people waiting!" Gilbert retorted, helping his auburn haired Italian sit up properly. "Come on, Feli. It's food time." He said gently, stroking Feliciano's cheek.

"Hmm, food?" Feliciano mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes and looked to the bowl in Gilbert's hands.

"That's right, it has noodles in it." Gilbert smirked as a small smile lit up the sick man's face. Even sick Feliciano would always accept some form of pasta.

Lunch for the Italians commenced quietly save for the two boyfriends cooling each spoonful with their breath and their two patients coughing occasionally. Finally when the two had enough they laid back down, Alfred replacing the rags back on their heads, and shut their eyes to sleep more.

"Hey, what kind soup is this? It's pretty good." Alfred said, spooning some of the soup into his mouth, apparently never hearing of 'sharing germs.'

"I just found some random shit in the cupboards. There were those curly noodles, some broth, vegetables, and I couldn't believe I found some potatoes so I added those t-" before the word was out his mouth the Prussian was then tackled to the floor, soup spilling out his hands.

"Dude!" Alfred said, legs on either side of the man as he stared wide eyed at him. "You know Lovino _hates _potatoes! He's going to kill you when he wakes up!"

"Get the _fick_ off me!" Gilbert growled, pushing the blond off then sat up. Gilbert knew fully well that the irate Italian hated potatoes, hence why he had done it. It was his own form of revenge for years of being called 'potato bastard' and the fights that always upset his little Feli. "He won't even know."

"You better hope so because I don't even think Feliciano could stop him from murdering you and leaving your body to rot." Standing up Alfred retreated back to his side of the bed and once again sat down in his chair, resuming his last business-finishing off the last of Lovino's soup(or getting rid of the evidence. He might not like Gilbert that much but it was his duty as a hero to make sure Lovino didn't murder him...or go to jail.)

Surprisingly, the rest of the day ran smoothly. The two healthy boyfriends continued to run for their patients, grabbing drinks-after Alfred found out about the wine he nearly smacked Gilbert in the head and told him that they didn't need to be drunk and it would probably make them worse then promptly switched to orange juice-,more food-Lovino wasn't allowed to touch the soup anymore-, and shooed off visitors the two might have had-Gilbert made a very good attack dog much to the dismay of Heracles and his many cats, Antonio-a few tomatoes in hand which he dropped but where still were fine for consumption and Alfred picked up after he ran off-and Yao who had stopped by to talk trade with the two. By the end of the day, they were exuhsted and some how managed to curl up next to the Italians to sleep.

"Ve~you know they're kind of cute when they're sleeping, Lovi."

"Yeah, I guess." Alfred awoke as he felt a gentle hand petting his hair. Opening his eyes he felt around for his glasses then blinked as they were placed on his face.

"Oh, hey Lovino." He mummbled with a small smile then yawned. "How ya' feelin'?"

"Better," Lovino replied gruffly and Alfred smiled even more at the tone of voice. Lovino was definitely feeling better.

"Mm, that's good to hear. Did I do a good job taking care of you?"

"Yeah...for an idiot you did an okay job."

Alfred smiled proudly at himself and snuggled into his boyfriend. Lovino flushed red but didn't retaliate and put his arm around him. "_Ti amo, idiota...grazi_" He whispered quietly.

"Love you too, Lovi."

Feli smiled at the two then looked to his own boyfriend who was watching him with ruby red eyes. "Ve~_Buongiorno_!" Feliciano said happily.

"_Guten morgen_." Gilbert replied, happy to see his smiling Italian back to full health-or at least getting there. He opened his mouth to say more but was then taken in a hug.

"Gilbert did such a good job taking care of me! Thank you!" Feliciano said kissing him on both cheeks.

"You're welcome." Gilbert smirked then kissed him gently.

"Ve~I'm hungry," The Italian then said and Gilbert could have laughed. Just like Feli, always thinking with his stomach. "Is there any more of that potatoe soup left?"

"What?" Lovino then sat up quickly, ignoring the blood rushing to his head. "What kind of soup was that?"

"Uh, I don't know Feli. Why don't I...go...CHECK!" Hoping up, the albino had just enough time to run out the door before an angred Lovino was after him, shouting curses in every language he knew.

"Oops," Feli muttered then sighed, getting out the bed with Alfred.

"I better go catch my boyfriend before he kills yours." Alfred said, going after the two.

"Ve~I'll get the tomato sauce." Feli was the last to leave, shaking his head. Yep, this household was definitely feeling worlds better.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Would you believe me if I said I texted this whole thing to myself? Would you? Well you better believe it! All two thousand and some odd words have been sent to myself via text message! I really need to stop getting bored when I'm at my friends house! Things like this madness pops up! I thought it was a cute idea and these two couples are love! Plus I'm appealing to not one but two fan bases! =D Aren't I awesome? Kesese. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it! AND HAPPY ALFRED DAY! (Also, yes, hot dogs. Besides hamburgers I consider hot dogs a very American food, hence hot dogs on the head.) ~Ciao! Love Stripes!_


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